Loki: Hel Hath No Fury
by S'layitalldown
Summary: Stand-Alone Loki Story. After the events of Thor 2: The Dark World, Loki's story picks up. Beginning with a forgotten time in his own past, Loki's reign on the throne of Asgard comes to an abrupt halt when the enemies he has lured from the shadows answer his enticing siren-call. SPOILERS for Thor 1 and Thor 2. Current Chapter: Three - Amora's Return. Rated M for later chapters.
1. Prologue Part 1

Prologue – Part One

xYx

Frigga, Queen of Asgard, smiled warmly as her husband strolled through the blossoming gardens of the palace towards her. Though he passed warriors and courtiers with nods and cheerful waves, he saved for her a smile that always touched her heart. He had been so busy with his duties lately that a visit to his sons while they were at their lessons was long overdue. She was pleased he had remembered to make time to catch up with them.

She flickered a glance to her first-born, enjoying the familiar flush of pride at the sight of him. Not far from the tables she occupied with her own students, Thor sparred with his childhood friend Sif, demonstrating his technique with the sword for her. He had grown from a fierce little boy into a strapping and rambunctious youth, always eager to show off, burning tremendous amounts of energy in his effort to be first among his peers. He took to his training as a warrior with robust enthusiasm, declaring the great deeds he aspired to emulate in the name of his father. The small arena they had claimed for themselves swirled with the shimmering metallic dust rising from the scuffed sand, giving them an almost mystical aura thanks to the mid-morning slant of the sun.

Sif herself had developed an admirable aptitude since showing an interest for the arts of war but today their laughter could be heard throughout the rest of the courtyard. Thor, somewhat brutish in his manner and actions, had a rather limited skill-set with bladed weapons and today he struggled more clumsily than ever. It was amusing to watch him attempt the moves he was familiar with when pitted against the small, lithe girl, her grace and speed more than making up for being outmatched in strength. Frigga found herself smiling at the two of them, enjoying the sound of their friendly banter. Her tall and handsome son - with his piercing blue eyes, lively golden hair and bold nature - was every inch the mighty Asgardian that his lineage predicted he would. Beside him he would need an equal and though her straight dark locks and diminutive size were not typical of the maidens of the court, Sif proved herself as much of a Lady as she was proving a warrior. They made a pleasing couple and Frigga was always happy to see them in one another's company.

Her younger son, Loki, quieter and more interested in the new world of books that Frigga herself had introduced him to, sat on a stone bench in the speckled shade of a small tree, absorbed in his studies. From a young age he had shown a great deal of dedication to sorcery, it allowed him to express a streak of good-natured mischief and playfulness. He had reached an age where he was now known to ignore his elder brother's scoffing of his scholarly ways, preferring to experiment with his magic rather than the weapon's training expected of him. Always immaculately groomed and so particular in his habits, he often wrinkled his straight little nose in disdain at the very idea of heading to the arena to take his lessons with the weapon's masters.

Though Thor often encouraged him to be more warrior-like and though he still idolized his big brother, Loki always managed to avoid the more rigorous sessions if a new spell beckoned his attention. He focused intently, reading out loud from the large book open in his lap and every few moments, he would stop to glance up at the blonde girl beside him, sharing a smile if he caught her eye. She was older than him, closer in age to Thor but shared with him a similar passion for the arts of magic.

Frigga paused her musing to walk away from her students and greeted her husband with an affectionate kiss. "I am glad you found the time to come see us."

"It was too beautiful a day to stay in a cold council room anyways," Odin replied cheerfully. He admired her for a moment before regarding his younger son. Loki had not looked up to acknowledge his father – something he should have done as a matter of etiquette – but instead wrestled with the torment of keeping his dignity fully intact. His eyes could barely tear themselves from the girl's face. She reached over to place her hand on the book in his lap, a finger tracing the lines of writing. Loki appeared somewhere between delighted and stricken when his eyes followed her arm down to the page.

"It's a wonder he can concentrate on his studies at all with such a tutor," Odin commented quietly in Frigga's ear, disguising his amusement behind a mock frown.

Frigga smiled indulgently. "Amora has the potential to be one of the most talented and powerful sorceresses in all of Asgard. She would be my prize pupil if not for Loki. He learns more from her than from me some days, but I think she is less forgiving of his mischief and more easily impressed by his abilities." She sighed, a little dramatically. "A mother cannot compete with the attention of a pretty girl."

They watched as Loki beamed up at Amora as she praised his efforts to pronounce the difficult, arcane words. Odin chuckled and shared a knowing look with his queen before turning his attention over to Thor.

Frigga was about to turn with him when she noticed the Amora's attention waver when Loki looked back to the pages. Her eyes flickered towards Thor but in that moment, her glance happened to lock with Sif's. Both girls glowered, a mirrored look of jealousy on their faces. The tiny storm passed as quickly as it appeared but a definite tension became transparent. A silent war was brewing.

Frigga's lips twitched as she repressed an amused chuckle. Odin caught the twitch of her eyebrow. "You are amused?" he asked, teasing her.

"Young love and discord go hand in hand, it seems," Frigga commented, nodding subtly between the girls. They were now trying to ignore each other and concentrate but their matching frowns gave them away.

"They are still children." Odin commented. "How many years did we frown at one another before we even spoke a word? Was there ever a young woman in my company you didn't frown at across the halls?"

Frigga laughed charmingly at her husband and let him go, continuing to observe the two girls. She sensed danger but wondered if was just her instincts as a mother, an urge to be over protective.

Sif and Thor had paused, subduing their laughter while Thor tried to catch his breath. Sweat poured down his face despite the moderate warmth of the morning. He stabbed his sword into the sand and stripped away his padded armor and undershirt.

"You will attempt to challenge me, unprotected?" Sif scoffed, arching an eyebrow at him.

Thor used the shirt to mop the sweat from his face before rolling it in a ball and tossing it towards the hedges edging their space. He spread his arms in an inviting gesture that rippled every muscle he owned. "What challenge?" he asked her, and with a heave, lifted the sword and swung it down at her in a tight arc.

Sif raised her shield just in time for the blow to glance off it. She gasped in indignation at the gouge it left in the wood and they resumed their sparring, a little more ferocious than before, only ceasing when Odin arrived. They both bowed bowing respectfully before him.

Frigga turned her attention back to her students and paused. It had happened so subtly that it took her a moment to understand that a change had come over Loki. He was intently reading the book but she noticed how stiffly he sat, spine straight and his face still. His eyes were little too narrow to just be picking out words. He blinked when he averted them without actually moving face and she understood immediately that he had also noticed the exchange between the girls but was doing his best to ignore it in favor of the lesson in front of him.

He caught Amora's attention before she discovered his annoyance with a well timed comment. "These spells seem a little easy," he stated, turning the page and skimming it before turning another.

Amora raised an eyebrow at his statement and turned her body to face him better. "Oh, I suppose you are ready for the spells of a real sorcerer?" she asked playfully.

"These are real sorcery. They just seem a little too easy. Don't you think I am ready for more difficult spells?" he asked, smiling at her shyly.

Amora's gaze had lifted to Thor again even as Loki spoke. She looked him up and down as he laughed cheerfully with his father. Odin complimented Sif and Thor wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her close in a gesture of pride and camaraderie. The miniscule line formed in Amora's brow again.

"Like… a love spell," Loki said suddenly, snapping Amora's attention back to himself.

Frigga froze. She had not thought Loki to be old enough – or interested – in love spells of any kind. A crush was one thing but the magic of love spells…

"Loki, there's no such thing as love spells." Amora said carefully, straightening herself up and placing her hands demurely in her lap. "The laws of Asgard forbid them, the punishment for using such magic would be severe. I have heard that it is banishment, sometimes death… or worse."

Loki shook his head. "They aren't in these books but I know a book that has those kinds of spells."

Amora smiled in a disarming way. "Nice boys have no need for love spells, princes even less so. It is blasphemy just to consider it. The heart is powerful, sometimes more powerful than the mind."

Loki ducked his chin, trying not to blush. "I wouldn't use them on anyone. They just looked really hard, that's all. I was just using them as an example. But a heart cannot be more powerful than a mind. It cannot think," he reasoned.

"It's true, the heart cannot think, but it feels," Amora warned, laying her hand on his thin chest, above his heart. Loki swallowed, mesmerized as much by her words as by her touch. "The mind can only tell the heart why it feels, not what to feel. The heart, on the other hand, can tell the mind anything, even if it is lying. Feelings are powerful, more powerful even than reason."

Frigga nodded to herself, pleased with Amora's sage answer. She herself had shown Loki the book he spoke of, it resided in the royal library and was known only to the highest and most trusted sorcerers for study and reflection. It had never left the archive, not since it was written. She hadn't realized at the time that Loki had spotted those spells. She knew he was learning the arcane language but was not aware he had become so proficient so quickly, and resolved to discuss the matter with him privately.

Engrossed in her thoughts, she didn't notice the subtle shimmer surround both Loki and Amora, creating an illusion over them. To her, they sat quietly again, engrossed in the book, studying in silence.

xYx

Loki felt the stillness cover them and blinked for a moment, adjusting to the change. He couldn't feel the warmth of the sunlight anymore, nor the cool lick of the breeze that he'd felt a moment beforehand. The birds in the garden, the voices of his family, the bustle of nearby warriors and courtiers were all muted to his ears. Amora's hand still pressed against his chest and he became painfully aware that the pounding of his heartbeat troubled his ears.

"Do you really know a book of love spells?" she asked, taking her hand away.

With a glance towards his mother, he twitched a nod but didn't speak. Frigga still watched them, a serene smile on her face. He steeled himself and lifted his hand, distracted for a moment by the shimmer between the reality of his movements and projection created by the illusion. He mustered his courage. The feeling that they were in an intimate little bubble encouraged his bravery. He leaned in as close to her as he dared, cupping his hand to her ear to whisper his answer.

Amora leaned away from him, her face skeptical. "Is this another of your tricks?"

Loki shook his head, a little crestfallen. "I promise it isn't. The archive is just another part of the library."

He was troubled by her skeptical frown and swallowed the dry feeling in his throat. His heart continued to pound.

She assessed him before speaking. "It's the forbidden part of the library. It belongs to the crown of Asgard – which means it belongs to your father. We would never be granted permission," she said dismissively.

He glanced to his father, still with Thor and Sif. "I am to be king some day, if not Thor. The crown is mine by birthright. Doesn't that make the archive mine too?"

Amora arched her eyebrow at his claim. "Would your father see it that way?"

With a small shake of his head, he looked down at his hands, squeezing the edges of the book. "I guess not. Sometimes wonder if my father makes too many rules. If Thor does come to the throne he won't be able to remember even half of them. I think it would be easier just to subdue enemies that dare to test us. Sometimes I think they like going into battles for the sake of something to do."

Though she smiled at him, she looked at Thor with more than a little fondness. "He will search long and hard to find adequate cause within the Nine Realms. Your father ensures this."

He frowned and resisted the urge to chew the inside of his lip. "The enemies of Asgard have had a long time to consider their grievances and might not be so tempered if Thor were to goad them. He would need me, in such a time. Such spells might be useful, if an enemy cannot be beaten, perhaps they can be calmed another way. Killing… I could never imagine such a terrible act such as killing another being. I would prefer to control than to kill. Death is just so… permanent."

Amora considered his reasoning. "If this were the case, why would the Allfather forbid such things? Control over another's mind is one thing but control of their heart is much more dangerous. People will do things for love that they would never normally do."

He looked over at Thor and Odin again, still talking to one another. He looked down at his book before looking up at her. "One of us is supposed to carry on Father's legacy, the very same principles he practices today and yet Thor proves again and again he wants nothing but battle and the imagined glory that comes with it. He does his best to infect those around him, first his friends and now the Lady Sif."

Amora tossed her hair back, challenged by his statement. "Do you object to women in battle?"

Loki shook his head quickly. "I object to a need for women in battle, given the number of men who so lust for it."

"Your own mother is an Asgardian warrior. The Lady Sif could be a great Asgardian Warrior and I would gladly submit to her protection but do you really think it is just battle she lusts for? She spars with none but Thor. Swordswoman she might be but it's not always leather-wrapped steel she dreams to grip in her hands at night."

Loki blushed at her words and turned away from her, watching his brother instead. "If that is true then Lady Sif would see him on the battle field beside her, not home with us, where he belongs. If a day were to come that I could convince him to stay then I would have him for a brother for a lot longer. I don't want to hear glorious tales of his death. Not ever."

Amora nodded. "I agree, but the risk outweighs any imagined benefits. I too would see your brother unharmed but while there isn't a dire need, this is no more than a mischievous idea."

Loki fought the prickling feeling in his eyes as tears threatened. "I would rather not wait until it became dire to know that I can protect him, as he protects me."

Amora softened immediately. "I'm sorry to upset you. There is nothing I wouldn't do for Lorelei and were I in your place…" She sighed and reached over to squeeze his hand sympathetically. "I just don't think it's wise."

His heart raced at her touch. "There can't be any harm in just reading a book, can there? What if there were a way to remain unseen? Would you at least want to read the books?" he asked.

Amora chewed her lip, considered his words thoughtfully before she nudged him and straightened into the glamour. Loki copied her, syncing himself to their projection before his mother – who had fixed her attention on Thor and Sif for a time – turned back towards them.

Further down the path, Fandral and Volstagg approached Frigga. Fandral took a moment to bow and kiss the hand of the Queen in a roguish way that was still mostly boyish charm. Frigga, flattered, smiled indulgently at him before turning her attention to her younger son.

"Loki, it is time we attended to other lessons," Frigga called to him, waving him towards her.

Loki closed the book, rising gracefully and bowing to Amora. "Until later," he promised, taking her hand to kiss the back of it. The gesture did more than emulate Fandral's, it upstaged it with sincerity.

Amora nodded. "Until our next lesson," she said meaningfully.

xYx

Loki approached his mother and stood beside her, observing his brother as he discussed swordplay with their father. Odin instructed him to lift the sword higher, the tip more upright and frowned as Thor struggled to obey the instruction. As he touched Thor's arm to adjust his position, he felt the strain of muscles and asked for the sword.

The tip immediately dropped to the ground in his hand and with a dark look, he turned and glared directly at Loki.

His mother realized in that moment he had been up to his mischief again. He kept his face neutral, almost blank – his trademark 'innocent' look. His mother glared at him a little, a dead giveaway that she knew he was entirely guilty of something.

"Loki," Frigga said with a tone of warning.

His face didn't change. "I thought Sif would be better matched if his strength wasn't such an issue. I just made the tip a little heavier, no harm done. It was just a bit of fun."

Frigga couldn't help the smile twitching at her lips. He suppressed his own but when he caught his mother's eye they both smirked and cleared their throats to cover the urge to giggle.

Odin returned the sword and dismissed both students from the lesson. He began to approach Frigga and Loki when he heard a sound and raised his arm reflexively at the throaty caw of a raven. With a rustle of feathers it landed with a hop. He listened intently as it delivered its message then cast it away with a nod to Frigga.

She shook her head and touched Loki lightly on the shoulder. "I apologize Loki, it seems we must have an urgent matter to attend. I will find you later," she assured him.

As Odin approached, he appraised him up and down. "You spend so little time practicing arts that may be of use to you in the future. Apply yourself to your weapons practice. Impressing a pretty companion is no excuse to let your training slide. Follow your brother's example," he said to him, firmly patting his son on the shoulder before offering his arm to Frigga and leaving with her.

Loki stood frozen to the spot, not sure if he had been chastised or encouraged. Though he tried to keep his expression neutral, he dared not turn to see if Amora had overheard the comment.

Fandral, still close by, chuckled at his expense and leaned in close to speak into his ear. "Take heart, Prince Loki, your brother's example isn't nearly so pretty as your own," he said with a wink to Amora. "A few magicians' tricks might just save you some day, if your sword arm won't!"

He and Volstagg laughed as they walked on to meet Thor.

Loki turned to watch them, a scowl forming in the aftermath of the insult. Amora rose from the stone bench and approached him. "Your brother's companions would do well not to scoff our talents," she said ominously.

"They have nothing to fear, and no threat they cannot face with a sword. All we have is our tricks and illusions. They are free to scoff. I am no warrior."

Amora gripped his shoulder with a tight hand. "There was a time that Asgard's greatest warriors wielded more than just swords, your father chief among them. They would never dare make the same jest of him."

"He is still a great warrior, no matter what his weapon. I have but a few tricks up my sleeve to compensate for all that I lack. Any advantage I might have is locked away in a vault behind rules that will forever prevent me from…"

He paused, not sure how to finish his sentence, or if he wanted to finish it out loud. "Should I to ascend to the throne, they would call me the 'Magician King' of Asgard. It is Fandral's favorite jest."

The petulant drop of his chin reverted his age a little. He looked back at her with stricken eyes. "I just want to be worthy," he whispered.

"You are," Amora promised.


	2. Prologue Part 2

xYx

Frigga indulged Thor's request that evening to host his friends at their dinner table. Loki had declined to invite anyone but Frigga asked Amora and her sister to join them anyway, though she did not seat them next to him. Loki's seat was next to his brother, between Sif and Thor, a placing he found to be the height of discomfort. Fandral and Volstagg sat opposite him with Amora and Lorelei and they chatted amongst themselves in a flirtatious manner, Lorelei preening under the attention of Fandral while Loki endured Sif and Thor attempting not to talk over him too much. Amora had more luck enticing Thor into talk with her, with Sif becoming increasingly quieter as the meal progressed. She ignored Loki's polite attempts to engage her every now and again. He tried not to appear as sullen as he felt until Amora offered Sif a compliment on her progressing skills with the sword.

"I admire your persistence, handling a weapon that so many maidens would be unfamiliar with, so repeatedly. You show great dedication to our warrior brethren," she said sweetly, though a flicker of her green eyes revealed the hidden barb.

Loki did his absolute best to remain completely still as nervous eyes darted around the table in the following moment of silence.

Sif blushed but recovered quickly. "The fact that I am a maiden will not withhold me from serving Asgard with whatever skill I possess, and while I am welcome beside so many magnificent warriors, I will make my ancestors proud."

Thor laughed heartily at her quick response. "Great stories will be told of you Sif, of that I have no doubt that!" he said, raising a glass in her honor and smiling at her cheerfully.

Sif beamed at the complement, sipping her drink and arching an eyebrow at Amora.

Amora sipped from her cup and feigned a smile as Thor and Sif began to recount their day at practice with the others. Loki turned his full attention to his meal and ignored the conversations around him. When he did lift his eyes from his plate, Amora caught him with a meaningful look. He wasn't entirely sure but wondered if her pointed stare meant that she desired to speak with him, a little more privately.

He decided later that he have been mistaken when she and her sister retired for the night without pausing to say goodbye.

A few hours later, restless and unable to sleep, he quietly slipped from his chambers. It was completely dark in Asgard. The palace settled into rest, the night-guards taking up their posts and beginning their rounds. Concealed by the shadow of a pillar, he waited for them to pass him so he could continue on his way to the garden.

Once there, he used his magic to light a small area around him and conjured a small round target, positioning it on the side of an ornamental tree. From his dark robes he produced several small knives and proceeded to swiftly cast them in a pattern that tested his accuracy. He was pleased with the results and without moving, summoned them back to his hands to practice again.

He wished, as he usually did, that his father was more impressed by his skill, but compared to Thor's efforts, throwing knives were little more than toys. Still, he enjoyed practicing, and being alone in the dark of night gave him time to think about things.

He was about to throw again when he felt the sensation of eyes upon him. He scanned the area carefully, dimming the conjured lights and had almost turned a complete circle when a dark-robed figure appeared a few feet away from him. Tipping back the hood, Amora smiled at his surprise look.

"We are not magicians, you know," she said. "We are sorcerers. It used to be a title, and it used to be respected and feared. Asgard is forgetting this. The books you speak of were written in a time when warriors bowed before sorcerers. I would make my ancestors as proud of me as those of any warrior, if not more."

She offered him her hand. "You had a wish to be unseen? There is a spell for that."

With a blink, they vanished from sight.

xYx

Nestled together in a dark corner, a small ball of light hovering above them, Amora and Loki sat shoulder to shoulder against one of the towering shelves as they pored through the dusty books of ancient writings. The section of the archive they hid in was bigger and far more comprehensive than either of them had realized and after a few hours they began to blink drowsily, despite being only halfway through the first few books they had found.

Amora was delighted, every page beckoned her and as she turned each one she felt her heart skip a beat. She didn't dare speak her thoughts but instead, chewed her lip in excitement. Among the pages were names she recognized, strokes of pen she had seen before, ingredients to potions she already knew and used. These were more than lost treasures to her eyes… they were a family reunion.

"I could spend days in here," Loki commented, stifling a yawn. He closed the book he was reading and floated it back to its place on the shelf above them.

Amora smiled, fighting back tears of sincerity. "As could I, but our absence would be noted. If you were to disappear long enough to raise concern your father would need but order Heimdall to turn his eyes upon you and this secret would be discovered."

"But doesn't this concealment spell hide our location?"

"The only thing more suspicious than a missing prince would be one that has vanished entirely."

Loki nodded thoughtfully. He turned himself slightly to face her better. "Your concealment spell could have a thousand uses, why do you hide it?"

She twitched a smile at him but kept reading her book. "You would know better than anyone how much trouble concealed person could cause. You cause enough with the ability to shape-shift, you would bring Asgard to its knees, if not its ruin before you realized it," she warned, toying with the corner of the page she was reading.

Loki sat up straight. "You believe me to be so untrustworthy?" he asked, a little hurt.

She lowered the book and looked at him. "No, of course not untrustworthy…" she began, but Loki cut her off.

"Why reveal to me such a spell if you have no intention of sharing it? I had thought us equals in this venture, else why would you come to me?"

Amora hesitated. He wasn't ready for the truth but she saw a fury growing in his eyes. He was an unpredictable friend, she hated to think what his wrath might incur but she swallowed a clench in her throat. The truth was too precious. She couldn't think of anything to say so instead, she steadied his face with her hand and kissed him.

She knew he had not expected it. It was a simple, chaste kiss, he was frozen in place, too scared to move. She slowly pulled away and smiled at the amazement in his widened eyes, relieved that the distraction had worked.

That was until Loki returned her gesture, slipping his hand to the back of her neck and pressing his lips to hers again with commanding deliberation. He was, by nature, a graceful creature and it extended to his instinct for pleasure. He wasn't rough, not in the slightest, like a dancer he led with a firm surety. Her eyes closed almost involuntarily in response to the dizzying surge that ran through her. She had certainly never kissed a boy the way he kissed her now, his lips urging hers to part. The taste and sensation of his tongue against hers was a revelation to her senses. For a split second the world around her vanished but it rushed back in an icy wave of realization, all her common sense with it.

She pulled away abruptly. "Loki… we mustn't," she warned him.

He let her go but he smiled a little smugly at her. "Surely that's part of the fun."

"Perhaps for you," she muttered, getting quickly to her feet. "We need to go or we will be too weary to apply ourselves to our studies tomorrow."

Loki shrugged. "First, the spell."

Amora shook her head emphatically. "No. I cannot teach you!"

Loki stood up with her. She moved to step around him but he blocked her. "You have invited me into trouble, I need fair recompense."

Amora shook her head emphatically. "I cannot. It's… forbidden. I am not supposed to know it anyway, no one is. Your grandfather forbid it from even being written down, it is a family secret that I cannot share."

"Am I not in the same predicament?" he asked, waving a hand around and grinning at her wolfishly.

"Hardly. You would never suffer the same wrath from you father that I would. Or your mother for that matter. I would never be treated so kindly. Please don't ask me again."

Loki bit his lip thoughtfully. "Perhaps a better trade then," he suggested.

"Like what?"

With a shimmer, Loki transformed into Sif, then back to himself. "What if Sif and Thor were no longer sparring partners. Would that afford you an opportunity to gain more of his favor?"

She dropped her gaze and looked away but she could fee a blush heating face. "Why would I want such a thing?"

"I've seen the way you look at him. I'm not a fool, Amora. Give me the spell and… I will help however I can."

She looked up at him. His face was difficult to read. He seemed sincere but then, he always did. "Are you trying to trick me?" she asked softly.

He shook his head, leaning closer to her. He gently took her hand and lifted it to his lips. "There would be no sport in it, if I were. You will not come to harm at my hand," he said softly, lowering his face to kiss the back of her hand almost as seductively as he had kissed her lips.

She shivered at the giddying rush that ran through her. "I will teach you," she agreed, ignoring the chime of warning in the back of her mind.

xYx

A few days later, Loki waited on the balcony near Thor's chambers, prepared to keep his promise. He had seen his brother enter a while ago and waited patiently for him to emerge on his way to the dining hall. The afternoon sun had dimmed to a blinding orange, radiating over the gardens and straight into his eyes. He couldn't wait to get this over with. Despite his willing participation, he felt ridiculous. Sif had been led astray, distracted by Amora's doing to ensure their paths wouldn't cross and reveal the prank but Loki still felt a sense of misgiving about his role.

Amora had conveniently omitted her role, despite sharing with the concealment spell she refused to elaborate on exactly what she planned to do once the rift between Thor and Sif began. They seemed, if anything, to grow closer and closer, sharing a trust built on many years of companionship. Both Loki and Thor had grown up with Sif, she was as much a part of the court as they themselves. If Thor touched him, the illusion would shatter and he'd seen a few too many affectionate brushes instigated by his brother to be entirely sure he would get away with his ruse.

He heard the heavy step of Thor's boots and steeled himself. With a shaky swallow, he called out to Thor, with Sif's voice.

Thor appeared, smiling at him warmly. "Lady Sif. May I escort you to the dining hall?" he asked politely.

Loki did his best to appear sincerely happy, mimicking Sif's cheerful smile with the illusion he projected. "I was hoping for a word with you first."

Thor looked curious, relaxing patiently against the ledge. "Of course. I encourage you to speak your mind. What troubles you?"

The rehearsed speech suddenly seemed silly. He frowned for a moment, gathering his thoughts. "It's about your brother," he began.

"Has he caused you harm?" Thor asked warily.

Loki shook his head and lowered his eyes, remembering to let Sif's straight black hair shake around his face. "No, nothing like that. More of a... concern."

Thor relaxed and turned to lean his elbows on the balcony railing. "I believe it is one we share."

"You do?"

Thor responded with a nod. "His friendship with the Lady Amora. A girl of her age... she will lead him into mischief he has yet to think of and he will follow her, gladly I think."

He smiled, trying to hide his surprise from projecting onto the illusion. "I didn't think you noticed."

Thor chuckled. "I have eyes, Lady Sif. They see many more things than your quick strikes... and pretty smile," he said, flashing a charming smile of his own.

Loki took an involuntary step back, his eyes a little wider than he intended. "What do you... think should be done? About Loki?"

Thor's smile faded a little. "I would warn him if I thought he would heed my concern, but perhaps its better he learn the valuable lesson in choosing his friends more wisely. She plays him for a fool."

Loki stiffened, a frown scrunching Sif's pretty brow. "How so?"

Thor twitched an eyebrow. "I've seen how she looks at you. Do you doubt her jealousy? She will find a way to use Loki's naivety against him. I hope he is able to see it before she causes him real harm."

Loki looked away, blushing. Thor's insight genuinely shocked him. It was a moment before he could think of anything to say. "You care for him, don't you?" he finally asked.

Thor nodded. "Of course! He is my brother. I would protect him from anything."

"Even... a broken heart?"

Thor leaned in a little closer. "I'm afraid a little heartbreak is a thing no man can truly be sheltered from."

Loki leaned away. "I guess the trick is not to give it away to easily."

"I would not have thought you so cynical, my Lady."

"I'm not... I just always thought of him as... more clever, I suppose."

Thor paused. "You think of him often?" he asked curiously.

Loki paused. Thor looked troubled, as though the answer meant a great deal to him. He considered the possibilities. "Often enough," he stated simply, keeping a neutral face as best he could.

Thor seemed to interpret this as a good thing. He smiled warmly. "To the dining hall?" he asked, offering his arm.

Loki stepped back again, raising his hand to stop Thor's arm. "I will join you soon," he promised as Sif, and walked away.

He tried not to dash but quickly headed for the chambers allotted to Amora and Lorelei. He tapped lightly on the door, still in his disguise as Sif. Amora promised she would meet him there to ensure the next step in their plot.

Lorelei opened the door and regarded him with surprise. "My Lady, how can I serve you?" she asked nervously.

"I seek Amora."

Lorelei's eyes were wide, she looked more nervous than Loki had ever seen her. He could see over her head, behind her, the chamber she shared with her sister was untidy, papers were strewn about and bottles and jars stood open on almost every surface.

"I'm sorry but she isn't here. I believe she is already on her way to the dining hall. I was just about to leave and join here there... May I accompany you?" Lorelei asked, walking through the door and pulling it shut behind her. She waited expectantly for an answer.

Loki shook his head, puzzled. "I am sorry, I will have to be excused, I just remembered that I... I will meet you there," he said, backing away and leaving in a hurry.

Out of sight, he invoked the concealment spell. He waited for Lorelei to leave and doubled back, entering the chambers.

He picked up one of the pages. In untidy hand-writing, the unmistakable language of the spell books had been copied, along with the translation of ingredients and instructions. He lifted one of the jars and sniffed it, wincing from the acrid odour.

He ran his eyes down the list, matching the ingredients to the spell on the page before he dropped both of them in horror.

He ran from the room, sprinting towards the dining room.

He darted down the hallways, around guards and courtiers who looked at him in surprise. He realised that he hadn't transformed his appearance back but didn't stop to do so with the doorway to the hall in his sights. The private space of the royal family was empty save for the guards posted at the entrance way and he doubled his efforts.

He was unprepared when the hulking guard sprang at him. He saw – too late – the thick, muscular arm and blunt fist surge towards him... the next thing he knew was the crushing agony in his chest from the merciless blow and the spirally vision of the floor and walls as he spun through the air and hit the ground with a cracking sound. He rolled behind a pillar and lay on his back, unable to move.

Air wouldn't fill his lungs. He tried to breath but lances of pain radiated from his chest, shooting through him like licks of lightening and making his fight for breath even harder. He began to panic. What if he couldn't breathe? How would he get air, was this dying? He couldn't make a sound, not a word or a whimper for help. He could hear footsteps and blinked his eyes to clear them but tears poured over them, blinding him. He struggled for air and sight, trying to roll himself onto his side and managed to move enough that his eyes cleared.

The guard stood above him, looking down on him with a puzzled frown. Without a word the man turned and walked away.

Fearful sobs tried to pull air into his lungs and after a few moments of nothing but a strangled feeling of emptiness, he was finally able to gasp in and out, though fiery agony brought on more sobbing.

As best he could, he rolled onto his hands and knees. His limbs shook so badly he could barely control them. He could taste blood, it tickled in his throat and drooled from his mouth as he tried to push himself forward, towards the hallway and the door.

He heard the commotion of voices and footsteps. When he steadied himself enough to look up, it was Thor's panicked face looking down at him that he saw first. His brother fell to his knees beside him in is rush, almost knocking him over but before he fell, Thor was lifting him.

He surrendered to the pain, closing his eyes and letting darkness close in around him. Thor's voice spoke to him. He wasn't sure what his brother said to him but it was his name he spoke, over and over again, pleading for him to stay awake.

"Loki!" Thor begged him, giving him a rough shake that ignited another storm of pain. "Open your eyes!" he pleaded.

Though he struggled, his lids stubbornly fighting him, Loki managed to open his eyes, trying to look at Thor.

"I'm sorry," he whispered before blissful darkness claimed him.

xYx

He felt heavy and drowsy, both aching and warm at the same time. His nose twitched at the scent of herbs and chemicals – the tools of the healers. He blinked his eyes to get them working, trying to talk before he opened them fully. He could hear himself speak and realized that his voice made no sense whatsoever. He wondered what he was trying to say, listening curiously to the sound of his own raspy voice.

"… alright, mother. I'm alright," he found himself saying.

Upon wrestling his eyes open, he immediately saw his mother's tearful face.

"Loki!" she sobbed, leaning down over him smother his face with kisses. He wasn't able to wriggle away from her – his whole body hurt – and resigned to her affectionate outburst while he tried to master his voice better.

"Mother… mother, stop… mother!" he managed to gasp, gaining her attention. His limbs felt like lead at his sides.

"How are you feeling?" she begged him.

He took a moment to look around. He was in his own chamber but the room had been transformed by the tools of the healers who bustled at the end of his bed. They moved aside as Thor approached. He grinned cheerfully at him. "You live!" he declared happily.

Loki frowned in annoyance at the jest. "I consider it an ongoing accomplishment," he retorted testily. He was in pain, this was no time to be teased. He wondered why and realized he had almost no memory of how long he had been injured… or why.

Thor backed away and was replaced by their father. He sat down, a mixture of concern and stoic dignity on his face as he grasped Loki's hand tightly. "You gave us quite a scare, young man."

"I'm sorry, father," Loki responded, wondering why he felt the need to apologize.

"Don't be sorry Loki. None of this is your fault. Do you remember what happened?"

He tried. He remembered pain, and fear but from and of what, he had no recollection. He wasn't sure what day it was. He looked around the room to gauge the time of day and guessed it to be mid morning. He shook his head. He really didn't remember.

Odin nodded sympathetically. "It seems we were subject to a nefarious plot. You were an unwitting victim in a terrible scheme."

"What happened?" he asked curiously.

Odin looked up at Frigga, then back to him. "Your friend, the Lady Amora, was not who she claimed to be. There are things about magic we have not yet told you, things we assumed we could tell you in due time. You have paid the penalty for our negligence, I'm afraid. She was not a loyal citizen of Asgard. She comes from a line of sorcerers banished from our realm for the practice of magics that are known to bring harm and destruction."

Loki blinked. "What kind of magics?" he asked.

His mother squeezed his hand. "Its best we discuss this later, Loki. I will show you, in due time. I'm afraid the fault of this is mine. I showed you the books in the archive without a warning to you, I shouldn't have given you such knowledge without first explaining the consequence of it. Sharing it with Amora enticed her to break your father's laws. She stole a great many spells before she was discovered, though before she could be arrested, she and her sister fled Asgard," she explained softly, caressing his cheek.

"Where did she go?" Loki asked, concerned.

Odin dropped his gaze. "We believe she has allies in Niffleheim."

Loki felt his face go cold. "The realm of the dead?" he whispered.

Odin nodded. "There is much you have yet to learn about the other realms, my son. I will teach you, in good time. For now, rest, heal. We will leave you to your sleep. Come, my dear," he said, rising and reaching over the bed to take Frigga's hand.

His mother took her chance to kiss his face some more until he mustered the strength to wave her off.

Thor waited patiently at the end of the bed, taking the seat their father had vacated. The healers began to file out of the room and he waited until they were alone before he spoke.

"I could not find the guard who attacked you," he said angrily. "I searched but the Lady Amora seems to have claimed him in her wake."

"What happened, brother? I remember… I don't remember anything. Did I do or say something?" Loki asked, truly concerned for his own welfare.

Thor shook his head. "If I had only paid a little more attention, said something, this could have been stopped. The Lady Amora put a spell on the guard, Skurge, with an intent to kill you it seems. To what end no one knows but he very nearly succeeded. Her chambers were cleared before she and her sister disappeared but whatever her plot, there was no good end to it. Father says there is a dark side to magic that comes from the farther reaches of our realms, even beyond and some of it was known to her. Where she is now, no one knows but she comes back to Asgard with a warrant for her death signed and waiting."

Loki was amazed at the venom in his brother's voice. "Would you kill her yourself?" he asked.

Thor looked at him, his eyes troubled. Tears formed. "I am so angry, brother, I just might," he answered honestly.

Loki swallowed, a little fearfully. "I hope she never returns," he said softly. "Warrior you might be but you are no executioner. I would never see the day you would kill in cold blood."

Thor smiled bravely. "Nor I," he said sincerely, but he pursed his lips tensely. "Death may be a legacy we have to uphold some day. It is not a task I look forward to. I hope only to face enemies who are worthy of a warriors death, and will join me some day in the halls of Valhalla. Dishonorable deaths condemn souls to Hel and I… I hope a long and glorious life without ever knowing what that is like."

Loki nodded. "I know. I feel the same way. A warrior's burden… it is a heavier one than some imagine."

Thor smiled indulgently, then gave him a rough shake to the shoulder, making him wince in pain. "Hurry up and heal yourself," he ordered. "You have things to learn. Picking better friends, avoiding a punch to the chest and a proper respect for my weapons chief among them!"

Loki waited for the pain to subside, resisting the urge to curl in a ball as Thor rose from his seat to leave. "You are almost useless with a sword!" he challenged as Thor turned his back on him.

Thor spun on his heel. "When you rise, I promise to best you with any weapon of your choosing!"

Loki grinned, opening his mouth to speak but Thor cut him off.

"Except magic," he warned, winking at his brother and leaving the room.

Alone at last, Loki pondered what he had been told.

The guard had tried to kill him… but the guard had not seen him. It had been Sif he would have seen. He wondered at that, and Thor's admission. He found himself wondering for many years afterwards.

Despite the lure of magic, he would train as earnestly and dutifully as the rest of his father's warriors, though he hoped more than any of them could imagine that he would never be called upon to use his skills.


	3. Amora's Return

The frosty black sand of Hel's shores - pristine and untouched by debris, unmarred by wind or footprints - divided the sea and the land in a thin, rippled strip. Ominous wails in the distance from souls in perpetual torment could easily have been the howls of a distant wind through unseen trees. Thick, black fluid silently lapped the icy beach, the distorted reflections of distant stars swirling above the void rippling on the undulating surface. The only break in the hopeless serenity was the steady progress of hundreds of small water vessels, moved by an unseen force towards a lone figure standing on the sand.

Hela, Queen of Niffleheim, watched their progress with a troubled frown darkening her brow. Time had no meaning to her. She had little interest in what happened beyond her realms but had stopped at some point to count the boats floating in from the void. Twisted silhouettes of the Disir that sailed them from the Nine Realms hovered over pale and ghastly souls, the newly-dead they carried to her from their judgment. The creatures seemed more weary than usual. She wondered how long it had escaped her notice that so many souls had been condemned to her.

The soul of a creature once made of stone and twisted metal staggered mournfully onto the beach beside her but the boat that carried it began to turn back towards the void.

"You are charged to escort the souls of the condemned to their eternal imprisonment!" she called to the Disir as it floated away.

The boat stopped and the Disir turned to her. "I have many more souls collect on this night, Goddess," it hissed back. "I cannot carry them all to their torment if I am to retrieve so many from this battlefield."

Hela gasped. "The souls of the battlefield are not yours to take!" she roared at the creature, provoked to fury by its indifference to her.

"That is not your choice to make, Goddess!" the Disir called back, continuing its departure.

Hela fixed her baleful stare on the soul that slithered towards her. "On whose battlefield did you fall?" she demanded.

The creature whimpered at her feet. "I was an enemy of Asgard, condemned by the Allfather," it moaned, attempting to reach out and touch her cape with a twisted claw.

Another soul, a squat creature with broken horns poking from its skull, crawled along the beach towards her from her other side. "Hela, my mistress!" it growled happily, trying to as the other did to reach up and touch her robe. "I fell in battle with warriors of Asgard, crying your name!"

Hela reached out with both hands, an invisible force gripping the necks of the faded apparitions, lifting them to her eye-level. "Who dares challenge Asgard? Who would be so unworthy of the Allfather's laws that he would condemn the souls of warriors to this shore?" she snarled.

"No one!" gasped the second soul. "The Allfather sends his warriors to force peace upon the other realms. Without his sons, he takes solace in war."

With a squeeze of her fist, the first soul shattered, the fragments sinking into the thick fluid with only the tiniest of ripples. "What became of Odin's sons? Did the mighty Thor fall in battle?" Hela asked with malicious glee.

"No. His sons have abandoned him, one into a life of his own, the other into death."

Hela dragged the soul so close to her face that his petrified expression reflected in her pitiless black eyes. "_Liar_!" she snarled in fury.

"It is true, I swear, my goddess, Loki is dead, and Thor has retired to his lover in Midgard!" the soul whimpered, thrashing its legs ineffectually. "I swear it upon my love for you, it is true!"

With a crush, the second soul shattered, disappearing just as the first one had. The boats drifting towards her turned slightly, carrying their cargo further down the beach.

"Valhalla," she said to herself, a smile curving her lips.

She gazed towards the Nine Realms again but this time something unusual caught her eye. One of the boats floating towards the shore was not the dark, charred wood of the others. It was bright, golden and shiny. A hooded figure sat at the rear, steering it directly towards her.

It stopped barely a body-length from her. From the bottom, a Valkyrie, elaborately bound in golden rope and gagged with her own cape, lifted with an unseen force and floated towards her. The Valkyrie was no spirit. She was as flesh and blood as the covered figure that stood up in the boat. The body of the Valkyrie lowered to the surface of the water and bobbed like a plank. She roared into her gag with defiant fury as she was used as a stepping-stone, the hooded figure alighting onto the beach at Hela's feet.

"Mistress," a sultry voice addressed her as the hood fell back.

Hela recognized her immediately, happily smiling a greeting. "Amora. I have longed for you to walk across my shores."

Amora's throaty chuckle disguised her fear well. "Of course you have. I am merely in exile, not dead."

"Not by the Allfather's doing. He would see you dead, your soul subject to my torment. What would bring you here if not the sweet release of death?" Hela asked curiously, eyeing the living Valkyrie as she struggled in her bonds.

Amora nodded. "I was told that my betrayer passed from the Nine Realms. Tell me, did Odin whimper as he passed you his soul, or did sigh with relief?"

Hela couldn't help but marvel at Amora. Her venomous fury did nothing to mar her beauty, even with such hatred in her eyes. "Loki did not come to me," she said calmly, considering the implications.

Amora scowled, her brows knitting together. "Odin, nor Thor grace the halls of Valhalla. Where is Loki?"

Hela tipped her head curiously. "The Valkyrie told you this?"

Amora nodded, her frown fading a little. "Eventually. The bitches are loyal, if nothing else."

"I sense mischief. Why does Odin have this taste for war? He has not indulged it since his youth and Loki is missing presumed dead? Hardest to believe yet that he would allow Thor to leave his side."

Amora stepped closer, her face transformed into longing. "What news of Thor?" she begged quickly, almost rudely.

"Thor has retired to Midgard… with a lover."

A surge of power rippled through the Enchantress, disguising her face for a moment as her composure, already sinking, slipped completely. "A lover," she hissed. "A mortal, laying with a god? How vulgar."

"In Midgard." Hela commented, a small smile creeping to her cheeks. "She must be something to behold, this mortal, if he can resist your charms and succumb to hers."

Amora flared at the remark, her cheeks flowering red and her breath catching in her throat. "I would _kill_ this mortal and deliver her broken body and shredded soul to the sands of this beach!"

"Good!" agreed Hela, but her voice expressed a dual lilt and her eyes lit green from their depths. For a moment, Amora was mesmerized. "I have a desire for souls. Bring me hers, bring me any others you find and I will grant you what you most desire."

"Thor?" Amora begged, stepping so close that the two women touched, chest to chest. "How?"

Hela reached up gently touched Amora's shoulders, keeping her close but prompting her to turn. She reached out with her power, lifting the bound Valkyrie and floating her into the air. She whispered a word, her breath rushing past Amora's ear and sending a child down her spine as a green wisp of fog flew towards the Valkyrie, pouring into her body through her eyes. The fog returned to Hela a little more condensed than it had been but the Valkyrie was still, her eyes glowing a dull green. The ropes crumbled from her body and as she floated the sand she knelt before them.

"Goddess…" she whispered with a hollow voice.

"Just like that." Hela whispered seductively into Amora's ear. "Go to Asgard and find Odin, if he has fallen then Valhalla lies unprotected. When Valhalla is mine, then Thor shall be yours."

"What of Loki?" Amora asked.

"What indeed," Hela commented thoughtfully.

xYx

Director Nick Fury stood behind a two-way mirror, observing as Agent Maria Hill briefed their newest operative on the mission ahead of him. The interview was taking twice as long as necessary as the recruit, with any opportunity to speak, would _not_ shut up. Fury had spent the last ten minutes curbing his own impatience by trying to calculate how much of his admiration for Agent Hill's patience was actually mired in pity. He was growing increasingly more awed by her demeanor. She had not been ruffled once, despite an onslaught of disturbing chatter and blatant sexual innuendo. Fury was beginning to think that by the end, Agent Hill would be eligible for some sort of Medal of Valor, most definitely a note in a record book somewhere… especially if she made it all the way through without trying to shoot him. His musing was cut short when she stood abruptly, exiting the room briskly but leaving all the paperwork behind.

She appeared a moment later through an adjoining door.

"Sir, with all due respect, if I am going to go back in there… can't you just shoot you me instead?" she asked from between tightened lips.

"Is he getting on your nerves already, Agent Hill?" Fury asked as he turned, raising the eyebrow above his good eye.

"In the head, sir, just so we're clear." Agent Hill said rather stonily, her eyes on him but her gaze averted.

Fury turned back to the mirror. "Is he ready to commence?"

"I have given him everything he needs. He is as prepped as we can make him. We only have what intelligence Dr Foster was able to provide and hopefully that will be enough to guide him for now. He knows the danger and the preferred outcome. The problem is, if he changes his mind, or forgets half way through…"

Fury eyed the recruit suspiciously as he interrupted Hill's misgivings. "No one on our side - on earth or beyond - is going to be able to find out if Loki is alive and hiding in Asgard like our informant seems to think. No one we've ever heard of has a chance to withstand his power and kill him. Not Tony Stark, not the good old Captain, not even the Hulk made a dent in 'real power'. We can't ask his own brother to do it and we can't risk getting anyone else close enough. I have it on the best authority in the world that this guy is the _only_ man for the job. I need to know if he's ready. We have to do this before word can get to Thor."

Maria ground her teeth in annoyance, her jaw flickering as she took a breath before responding. "He is unpredictable, sir. There is a risk he could start an inter-planetary incident. If they think he's a spy or…"

Fury interrupted her again. "I am aware of that. It might be his best advantage, if they think he's a spy they'll make the mistake of trying to question him. That mouth of his will convince them better than anything else that he's _not_ a spy. He doesn't know who we are, he doesn't care – I'm good with it. He's ready, as far as I'm concerned, and I am prepared to go ahead, so deploy him immediately. The sooner we get this closed up the better."

Agent Hill ducked her chin, steeling herself with a deep breath before turning on her heel to re-enter the room.

Before she turned the corner, Fury called out to her.

"Hill, I gotta ask, for the sake of earth, would you really be willing to… you know? It's the best incentive we can hope to offer."

As Maria doubled back, she whipped out her gun, flicking the safety off and loaded the chamber before handing it to Fury. "Twice in the head, once in the chest to really make sure. And as a special request, burn my corpse. Don't bring me back."

Fury waved her off with one hand, trying to repress his amusement. "That won't be necessary, Agent Hill. Just make sure he's on his way immediately."

xYx

Odin stood alone in the chamber behind the golden throne room of Asgard, helmet in hand, his eyes closed in thoughtful reflection. He could hear the shuffle and murmur of thousands of voices echoing through to him. He waited for the dull roar to soften. He wanted them to expect him.

His peaceful wait was interrupted by the footsteps rushing towards him. Opening his eye, he saw his chancellor, the man's long flowing robes billowing behind him, approached with an urgency to his stride. He remained still but glowered a little. This man was always in a dramatic hurry to deliver news to him as though it was of the most vital importance. It never was though, a habit that troubled him once too often.

"Majesty," he addressed Odin, bowing deeply. "Fewer of your subjects come this year than last, fewer still than the years before. There are none to attend you on the dais. The Warriors Three, the Princes… There is talk, Majesty. Should we celebrate a peace that doesn't exist?"

Odin's flushed red. "Peace that doesn't exist? Are you not free? Are they not a free people, protected by the laws of this realm? Is the safety of Asgard not enough for you?" he snarled, his voice rising and his words clipped.

The Chancellor bowed his head immediately, shuffling back in chagrin. "Forgive me, sire…"

"No, I will not. Nor will the people of Asgard, the people threatened by those who would oppose us. Perhaps you need a more personal lesson in the danger our realms face, Chancellor. Consider this your conscription to the cause. Tonight you will enlist to the King's Army and take your new post under the Lady Sif on the frontline."

Odin jammed the helmet down on his head. "You are dismissed, Chancellor," he snapped on his way to his throne.

He strode angrily to the massive seat, taking the steps in large strides before turning his eye upon the people filling the great hall. Before him, the throngs of Asgardians gathered in the throne room shuffled nervously, awaiting the decree of their king.

Odin took a calming breathe and sat himself down as he was announced, the congregation bowing to him. He sank into his seat, no longer the proud father and husband he had been for so many centuries. Now he sat wearily on the throne, clinging to the Odinstaff with a shaky hand, betraying his sorrow with his whole body. With the fanfare of his arrival quickly over, he slowly heaved himself back to his feet. The clang of the Odinstaff against the floor ensured silence, and carried his voice to the farthest reaches.

"The warriors of Asgard continue to fight those who would defy the law of these realms and threaten our peace. The price of peace will always be eternal vigilance. To those who protect this peace, to those who have fallen in battle, we dedicate this celebration and remind our ancestors and our fallen that we will not forget their sacrifice," he stated loudly, his voice laden with sadness. "We will honor them. We will remember them. We will celebrate them."

The crowds stirred into a resounding applause at his words. They cheered for the festivities to come, the annual memorial had officially begun. Odin watched them indulgently before his courtiers gathered to escort him from the throne room to the dining halls.

A small crowd gathered about him, their happy chatter cheering him up as they walked. Guards lined the halls, nodding to him as he passed. Before they turned to the halls that led away from the edge of the palace, Odin paused in his march to take a moment, stepping towards the setting sun to overlook the courtyard that was known as the Queen's Garden. A tinkling waterfall had been removed from the center and now a marble statue of Queen Frigga stood. The statue shimmered in the golden light. Flaws in the stone reflected sunlight from her smiling cheeks, creating an illusion of falling tears. The eyes of the statue looked lovingly onto the two boys gathered by her knees. One was the unmistakable and robust image of Thor but the other had almost no features, its shape, slight build and impish hands cupping its own cheeks brought only a fleeting memory of the boy her adopted son had been.

Few had commented and yet there it was, for everyone to see: his attempt to erase and forget the changeling prince.

He heard footsteps approach behind him and turned a little. A pretty woman approached him, a courtier to whom he was more than a little familiar. He smiled warmly at her and she bravely stood beside him.

"It is a beautiful evening," she commented politely.

Odin didn't answer but fought off a bored frown. He didn't want to speak and let her hear how little he was interested in pleasantries. He was beginning to find it rather tedious that ladies of his court took liberties to seek his attention, as though having it once gave them eternal rights to it.

She waited a little awkwardly before turning her attention to the statue. "Many thought this would be the year to release him to Valhalla," she commented.

The comment stuck a chill all the way to Odin's gut. "He is not worthy of Valhalla," he responded. He ground his teeth. Women were often bold afterwards but this…

"It isn't his soul that needs to find peace," she said softly, looking at him meaningfully.

He refused to look at her. Her beauty had drawn him to her, if he'd known she would consider it her right to question him he would never have invited her to his bed. He turned on her abruptly. "You will forgive an old man his sentimental wish not so see another member of his family send into the darkness of the void. Watching my son vanish into the darkness once was enough, there was nothing I could have done to save him so I will not do it with deliberation a second time. It is my right, one that is not your place to question!" he snarled, and abruptly left.

"Women!" he muttered to himself as he walked. "Will they ever mind their own affairs and leave me to mine?"

He tried to calm himself as he continued on his way, by the time he entered the dining hall his mood had sufficiently changed and he burst into the room with flourish. "Let's feast!" he ordered, taking his rightful place at the head of the lavishly decked table.

As the evening progressed, sumptuous dishes arrived and copious amounts of wine flowed. Odin joked with his courtiers, flirting with the serving maids and chuckling with laughter at the lively conversations.

The court had undergone a transition in the past year, the older and more dignified warriors of the past being replaced by their younger heirs. They spoke proudly of their fathers and uncles battling on far-off worlds, working to repair the damage done in the years of upheaval. Peace was on its way but the courtiers were not looking forward to it. Their amusements, without the disapproving eyes of their elders, were only beginning to blossom.

It was late when the minstrels arrived and the tables were removed to clear the floor space. The Allfather joined the younger men and women to initiate a new game that had risen in the court – the King of Asgard had developed a love of dancing.

He clapped his hands to gain the attention of the crowd.

"Tonight," he said dramatically, his voice slurred a little with wine. "We learn a new dance. Gentlemen, for this dance you will require two partners. Ladies… do try to behave."

The music rose quickly, a loud, brisk song. Odin took the hands of two ladies, a tall and slender blonde woman and her elegant yet buxom friend. Both women giggled with giddy delight as Odin, more graceful now than he had been in years, led them through the steps. The rest of the court quickly joined, laughing as they locked gazes and enthusiastically stepped, spun and dipped through elaborate turns and exchanges.

A few hours later, Odin, smiling and laughing, begged the leave of his court to resounding cheers.

"My good people, I must retire but I bid you, carry on in my absence and think of me only until I'm gone," he joked, accepting the concerned arm of the ladies who had been dancing with him.

"Would you mind terribly, assisting this old man to his chambers?" he asked them politely, smiling broadly when they both readily agreed.

As he offered both of them an arm each to escort him he glanced back at the celebrating crowd he was leaving behind, sighing somewhat wearily but smiling as he did so. "Distractions can only stave off the loneliness so long, I'm afraid."

The girls exchanged a knowing glance with one another. "We understand, sire," one commented, squeezing his arm.

"Maybe we can keep it at bay a little longer," the other suggested, tucking an arm boldly around his waist.

Odin smiled at each of them as they walked. "Ladies, you honor me. How can I ever repay your generous spirit?"

The women giggled charmingly. "You are so good to us already, sire."

Odin smiled broadly as he ushered them into his chambers. "I'll let you in on a little secret my dears, the secret to being a good king lies in the simplicity that it is good to _be_ king."

xYx

Moonlight spilled through the large, glossy chamber. It had been creeping downwards for hours, the metallic surfaces reflecting off one another. Slowly but surely, the canopy of the large boat-shaped bed began to mirror the contents beneath it. Staring back at the ceiling as his face began to show, a glimmer erased the elaborate illusions coating him and revealed Loki, lying on his back with mounds of furs and bodies surrounding him. He looked up at himself, studying the distorted image. He tried not to look at his own face. He admired the sleek and pale contours of his body, the raven-wing spread of his rumpled hair but he dared not meet his own eyes. He closed them, trying to undo the shining blue lies they spoke back to him.

A tear escaped but he ignored it, steeling himself to look again.

_Show me, _he said to himself. _Show me the true king of Asgard._

Every night he played this game with himself, every night he opened his eyes and prayed silently that the truth would be reflected there, once and for all. The truth that should be. The truth he told himself, the mantra he repeated over and over again.

This night was just like the others before it. The nightmare called his bluff. Again

The eyes that looked back at him were blue, far too blue to be his own. They shone with compassion, with love and intensity, so alien from his own that he gasped, covering his mouth tightly with his hand in an attempt to remain silent. His voice choked his throat and his eyes burned at the image. Sunlit blonde hair, muscles that rose like a mountain range across his body, he stared up in horror at the reflection looking down on him.

No matter how hard he tried to forget, to escape, to convince himself he had won, every night the image was the same. A torment struck him in the belly like a blow from _Mjölnir. Tears poured from his eyes and to his horror, they fell from the reflection, splashing down onto his stunned face._

_"I miss you, brother."_

Thor wept for him, as he wept for himself.

He covered his eyes and laughed to hear his own voice, to muffle the echo of those words.

It was laughing he could hear, he assured himself. Not sobbing.

Never sobbing.

xYx

Amora hoped that after all this time the gate-keeper had forgotten her face. She had been so young when she escaped. Surely, in the garb of a Valkyrie, he would at least let her in range?

Facing her, the hulking man at the other end of the boat gazed at her worried frown, his expression strangely calm.

"Have you missed your home, Skurge?" she asked curiously.

A smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "Wherever you are, I am home."

Amora reached out and patted his arm fondly. "You don't remember a time before we met?" she asked.

Skurge admired her for a moment before turning his attention to the shimmering city of Asgard's capital. "I remember the darkness, the cold absence of your presence and nothing more. This is… just a place."

Amora beamed at his answer and turned her attention back to the palace rising ahead of them. "This is a home to me. I loved it here. I have waited so long to come back. Once Asgard is mine, I will never leave again, I swear it."

The boat was rapidly approaching the Bifröst, and still no guards rushed to intercept them. Skurge turned his attention to steering the vessel, it rose elegantly from the water and headed to the dock underneath the Rainbow Bridge.

They alighted from the boat and headed straight up to the dome. Inside, standing at his post, Heimdall gazed out into space, a serene look upon his face. He had aged in the years of her exile but remained as impressive and commanding as ever.

He didn't move as she approached. Glancing back at Skurge for reassurance, Amora stepped cautiously closer to him until she stood at his side.

He ignored her, enthralled by the view of the distance.

Skurge approached him from the other side, just as baffled as Amora until he looked into Heimdall's face.

"Were his eyes not Amber? Like the stone on his armor?" Skurge asked Amora.

She looked closer. Heimdall's eyes were the blue of a deep glacier, icy and yet transparent. He looked unwell, his focus many miles away. He didn't move or acknowledge them, even as Skurge carefully eased the hilt of his sword from his grip.

Looking at one another, Amora and Skurge shrugged, moving on their way.

From a knapsack, Amora took an entirely new set of clothes and quickly changed in the dome. Skurge watched with admiration as she discarded the Valkyrie uniform and stood before him in the emerald and leather of Asgard's most disgraced royal.

"You know that you will probably be arrested on sight," Skurge cautioned.

Amora took a deep breath and shimmered from herself into Loki.

"The faster, the better," Loki's voice replied, adding a mischievous wink.

xYx

Loki, disguised again as Odin, strode in a deliberate hurry down into the weapon's vault. The Destroyer was in its final stage. It had been rebuilt from scratch and he was eager to see if it was now ready as the Dwarves had promised. It had been delivered to the vault as per his orders in the early hours of the morning and was proving to be a perfect start to the day. Finally, he had a toy worth playing with.

He was almost to the end of the vault when he stopped, stock-still, in front of the sarcophagus. The beaten-gold likeness of his true face shone back at him. He swallowed, angry as he always was when he saw it, that the face seemed to mock him. The eyes, smooth and monochrome, still seemed to stare into him, past the illusion and into the truth. He loathed it.

"Too real," he hissed at it. "I should have the goldsmiths flogged for such sloppy work."

He hated the eyes. He wasn't sure how they did it, but the bottom lids, so perfectly depicted in detail, were slightly shiner than any other surface and angled in such a cunning way that it almost looked like they welled with unshed tears. He wanted to reach up and wipe them away, erasing the very suggestion. Every time he thought of it his hands twitched to obey the desire. He placed a hand on the cheek and leaned as close to the cold metal face as he dared.

"You would be so proud, father," he whispered mockingly, then grinned to himself and continued on his way.

At the end of the room the chrome giant stood, shiny and new. It was superior to the old version. Fiercely-curved horns rose from its head, claws curled from the tips of its fingers. It was taller, thinner, more monstrous-looking than its original counterpart. It was also made of a far superior metal, one that even Mjölnir would struggle to dent.

A dwarf approached, blocking Loki's path. "The Destroyer is ready for power," the dwarf rasped, then politely moved out of the way.

He examined the robot carefully, unable to conceal his pleased smile. "Superior work," he complimented, rapping it with a knuckle and trying not to wince at the sharp pain it caused. He spun on his heel and approached a pillar that stood on its own, marked with a single warning. With a wave of his hand the pillar opened, seams appearing where none had shown, a pale blue light emanating from inside the darkness. In the glass tube it was protected by, the Tesseract shone brightly. He admired it for a moment before carrying it over to the robot. He twisted both ends of the tube to activate the power and quickly pointed it over at the Destroyer. With a flash of power, the robot shook to life.

Unlike the old robot, this one glowed blue within, its small eye-holes swirling like the surface of disturbed ice puddles. It nodded at him then moved slowly, gingerly, each step a deliberate effort, to the back of the room and stood still as the concealing grid opened.

Loki placed the tesseract back in the pillar and walked past the dwarves.

"As always, a great pleasure doing business with you," he said on his way past. The dwarves watched after him, baffled at the swiftness of his departure but before they could speak, they heard the destroy turn.

With a metallic groan the face opened and a blast of blue fire vaporized them.

From the end of the corridor, Loki turned and looked back at the mechanical monster.

"You'll do nicely," he said with a smile.

xYx

The throne room bustled with guards and courtiers. As the figure of the Allfather strode towards the throne a tense hush fell upon them. Loki settled in his chair, the staff Odinstaff across his lap.

He stared out at the worried faces, all of them looking back at him with equal concern and wondered for a moment if they somehow knew of the Destroyer he had just concealed. His fear was interrupted by a small contingent of guards approached him and all attention of all those present, his included, focused immediately on them. For a moment, Loki was curious at the behavior of the people in the room, until he understood what drew their fascination.

The smirk, smug and superior.

The long black hair, curving over the shoulders.

The blue eyes that bore into his mind.

The arrogant march of a man arriving at his own party.

Loki felt his stomach turn to ice.

He was watching himself, marching in chains, approach the throne.

He honestly didn't know how to respond. Who would _dare_?

The guards parted and he rose from the throne, walking down the steps.

Did his heart really pound so hard in his chest?

"Hello, father," his voice said cheerfully. "You missed me. I can tell."

Did his hands really tremble?

"Loki," he mumbled, unsure what to say. His mind stabbed for a response. What would his father have said to him? Last time he condemned him, not to death but to imprisonment on behalf of his mother.

She was gone. So was Thor. What would the Allfather have said to him, were it just the two of them and he owed him nothing?

"Nothing to say, father?" his voice mocked. "No condemning words this time?"

Instinct drove his action. With a swiftness that almost betrayed him, he slapped the imposter across the mouth so hard that he saw himself crumple under its force.

The slap broke the illusion. Tumbled ringlets of long blonde hair bounced away from the heart-shaped face that turned back to him, cat-like green eyes flickering with fury as an angry red hand-print appeared on the smooth round cheek.

Loki stepped back in astonishment. This was not a face he ever expected to see again.

"Amora?" he said in amazement.

Her full pink lips curved in a smile that never quite reached her eyes. He tried to digest his confusion but the shackles fell from her wrist and she returned his slap. He staggered in surprise, not at the blow but at the cold, ripping sensation of the air around him. He blinked the stars from his eyes but heard the gasps of the courtiers and guards alike as he straightened.

"Hello, Loki." Amora said smugly as the courtiers bustled and the guards raised their weapons against him.

The illusion of Odin was gone.


End file.
